


A Crown for a Prince

by lacewingss



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love, Romantic Fluff, Temptation, chaste marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacewingss/pseuds/lacewingss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian ponders over his feelings for Ida Hawke when they take advantage of a spring afternoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crown for a Prince

Spring inside the walls of Kirkwall was stifling. The warming air did not blow in on a refreshing breeze, but instead settled like in a heavy layer that brought with it pollen and dust and all the refuse of the teeming city. 

Just beyond, though, on the foothills that led to Sundermount, was clean air and a sweet wind. Sebastian and Ida Hawke had taken taken advantage of the sun drenched hills and laid out a small picnic beneath a budding tree. Early wildflowers sprang up in bunches, adding a pleasant smell to the air that neither could experience within the confines of the city. 

Sebastian leaned with his back against the tree, watching Ida as she gathered flowers and twisted them together. Each time he looked at her he could not help but marvel over her acceptance of his recent proposal. Under the laws of the Chantry they were now husband and wife; linked together in spirit for the rest of their days. There was a saying among the common people – that you cannot have everything you wish – but Sebastian was proof that saying was wrong. He had his faith in the Maker and his position at the Chantry, and he had Ida by his side. 

Ida finished her task, holding it out for him to see. In her hands was a circlet of wildflowers, carefully woven together. The blues and purples of the flowers blended beautifully, as did the lengths of green grass she had braided into it. When she placed it on her head the sunlight caught it and threw shadows of petals onto her face. 

“You're rather good at that, love.” 

Her smile was brighter than the sun to Sebastian's biased eyes. “Thank you! I used to make them a lot when I was a kid. My father would call me his little princess when I wore them. How Carver hated that!” She laughed lightly, but it quickly died as she looked into the distance, across the waves of the sea. Sebastian knew that look well. She was dwelling in the past, and mourning those she had lost. 

“You miss him?” 

When she nodded the crown slipped forward and Ida pushed it back before responding. “More than anything.”

“I didn't get a chance to know your brother, but if he is anything like you, I have faith he will be well. The Maker will be watching over him.” 

“I'm sure you're right.”

It was quiet for some time, then. Ida stood to gather more flowers and work on another crown, and Sebastian was content to switch between watching her and watching the scenery. They didn't speak often of her brother, and even less her sister. He almost felt bad for bringing it up until he noticed she was once again humming to herself and smiling distractedly as she worked, thoughts of her grief pushed aside. 

When the second crown was finished Ida rose to her knees, discarded petals falling from her lap to land in the grass, scattering hues of purple and blue. She leaned forward towards him and he could smell the perfume of the crown she held in her delicate hands – fresh and fragrant and full of the spring wind that was caressing their skin. She lifted her arms above him and placed the crown of flowers atop his hair, where it settled comfortably. 

“There! Now you look like a real prince.” Her expression was radiant, as if she had just given him the best gift she could imagine. Now they matched, with rings of life perched over minds never quite settled; the king and queen of a land populated only by themselves. 

Sebastian responded without thought as Ida let her arms fall back to her side. He reached out with one hand to find her waist, and to rest on the slim curve of her body. Under his palm he felt the cool of her dress and the tightness of muscle flexed in surprise. Magic pulsed within her and he swore he could feel it tingle his fingertips, through flesh and fabric and the knowledge that it could not be. 

The pressure of his hand was as light as the petals falling from the tree, yet still the feeling rushed through him like rapids. His other hand, trembling as if this were all new, rose to feel the warmth of the sun collected in her hair. He brushed it from her shoulder, letting it cascade in waves opulent from the afternoon light. Where his fingers touched it slipped through like water and hung in the still air. 

Not without a struggle he turned his eyes from her hair to her face, which was closer now than he could ever remember it being. She was still, eyes wide like a rabbit caught in the sights of a bow. Lips slightly parted, breath coming in even slow drags that he could feel rush past his cheeks, alive with magic and faith and so much love he could hardly bear to look but not touch. 

Her eyes, light like the sky above them, were locked on his. They were pools, lakes, _oceans_ of unknown depths and dangers. He could stare into them for the whole of his life and never garner all that was held within them. What he saw, though, rising to the surface above all else, was the purity that had drawn him to her since the very beginning. She was light and love and all the goodness he had searched so long for. 

How easy it would be to close the distance between them now. A simple movement forward and all that separated them would be gone in less time and effort than taking a breath. It would be a natural progression, aligned with the love songs of the birds celebrating the spring. Her lips were right there before him: moist and lush, pink as the shade of her cheeks when he complimented her. To meld his with hers would be a pleasure denied so long it must surely have grown more wonderful with time. He would kiss her...and then he would be lost. The moment, _the instant,_ their lips met he would no longer be able to resist the temptations he had changed his life to avoid. He would want all of her, then, in every way he could have. They would lie together under the open sky, the crowns falling from their heads as they gave into passion so strong it was sure to eclipse all else.

_Maker grant me strength._

His hand fell from her hair, letting it go with a catch in his heart and an absence to be filled. He found next her hand and took it in his, shivering at the surge he felt when his skin met hers. Her hands were small and thin, her fingers long. The rough of callouses betrayed her life and marred the perfection, but Sebastian could picture them no other way. Ida used her hands to heal, and a healer was never far from hurt.

He lifted her hand up and slowly pressed the pads of her fingers to his lips. One by one he kissed them all, lingering on the last, unwilling to break the contact. Ida's color had begun to rise and there was a faint pink hue to her cheeks, blending beautifully with the lips he could not seem to stop glancing at. 

“You are like the light of Andraste herself. I-” _I what? I am succumbing to my desires, I cannot keep this up._ Would she be happy, then? To hear those words and to know he wished to be with her in ways he vowed against? 

With a gentleness that permeated all things she did, Ida lowered her hand and turned it in his. She looked into him, past his worries and fears and straight to what was in his heart. He felt her squeeze his hand as she smiled at him. 

“I understand,” she said, and pulled herself away to settle once again in the grass. 

Sebastian let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. She tempted him in ways he not been prepared for, yet she never let him lose himself. She knew what his faith meant to him, and how he would regret throwing away his vows for purely physical desires. She knew, and she helped. She must feel the same rush and tension when they were close, yet she wielded the willpower and strength they both needed to leave such temptation behind. That's who Ida was, though. Magic was made to serve and help and she did just that. She had helped him all those years ago when no one else would. She had stood by him through his doubts and trials and never once asked for more than what he could offer. 

And _by the maker_ he loved her.

The sunlight was playing on her bare arms she has reached into a bag nearby and pulled out a book. Her expression brightened and she slid closer to him again, resting her head in his lap with her legs spread out before her. He gazed down at her, heart aching in its fullness. 

“Let me read you this, darling. It's about the second blight...” Her words sang in his ears as she read, melodious and even. Hesitantly he reached for her hair again and found he was now able to run his fingers through it without trembling.


End file.
